#I'm so relieved he was so ugly in the first movie it made me sad

[thefloatingstone]

I have issues with this movie (so far) but the way they made Briareos look is not one of them

God bless

[luckycauldron]

I'm keeping this here. What for? I don't know... but I know that I want to look back into this on a happy note. One day.

I want to remember that most of the times, things in life won't work a certain way I expect it to be - and it's fine. It is. It completely is.

I just let out a sigh as I'm writing this haha.

I mean, who am I kidding? Life has been... how do I put this into words, hm? Bitter... sweet? Mindboggling? It feels like I got punched multiple times in the most hurtful ways, but every. single. time. I kind of... managed to survive? I couldn't dodge though, so I'm left with some real ugly bruises. But they're fading, so it's fine, except for the new ones I just got HAHA.

Ok enough with the metaphor.

Now on to the real talk. This would be the first time I'm voicing out what I'm about to.

And there goes another sigh.

Back on August last year, I broke up with my longtime boyfriend - 5 years and 8 months went down the drain. It was a mutual agreement, I initiated though. The guy was a coward, so I did what I had to do. I always knew it was coming, we were like spoiled milk, what do you expect? He made me wait, maybe too taken aback with my advance. I remember one time during my suffocating wait, I was praying and silently crying in the upstairs room, holding back a scream because everyone was asleep and I ended up with the most terrible stomach cramps I've had in my entire 27 years of living. That made me stop crying abruptly, and the next thing I knew I was clutching on to the nearest table tops because I thought I was gonna die from the pain. Very dramatic. Even my cats were judging from afar. 'Ugh, when will this end', 'Make it stop', 'What an embarrassment' were evident on their evil little faces.

So then the breakup happened. It was sad, but I was mostly relieved that the spoiled milk had finally find a home - yes, the garbage dump, duh! We also had this stupid thing where we say "Let's be friends. I have a feeling we'd make the best of friends even we're no longer lovers" as a closing statement. Total cuckoo move. Can't believe Vicky was right.

To be honest it was hilarious watching myself going through my first breakup. Definitely a journey not to be missed out. I'm not gonna go into details but let me paint you a picture through the songs I associated during this 'self-discovery' phase.

Phase 1: Astrid S - It's Ok If You Forget Me

Phase 2: Taylor Swift - Tolerate It & Champange Problem

Phase 3: Billie Eilish - Happier Than Ever

Phase 4: Cokelat - Karma

Phase 5: Tulus - Hati Hati di Jalan

Yeah, I basically went through the infamous 5 stages of grief without me realizing it.

Fast forward to October. I am ashamed to admit this, but deep down I kind of expected him to wish me Happy Birthday. But of course, he didn't. Fucking asshole. Let's be friends, my ass.

Then, came December. If this was a movie, it must be the crazy sister of Denis Villeneuve's Enemy - for its next level of mindfuckery. It actually left me saying 'what the fuck?' even today, because what in the actual fuck is happening, really? I blinked and what... he got married now?

He fucking did.

Now, this was the moment where it finally came down to me that; this is it - The Grand Finale. I've had billions of scenarios I always play in my head; what's gonna happen that now we're on our own. It did occurred to me that cases like this would happen but I calculated and the chances are slim, because I was confident that I'll have it first. I'll be happy first. I'll meet someone first. And he'll live a miserable life knowing I am the best he's had. Oh, I know I am. Still, what a dick. Good luck, though.

Lesson learned: please improve on your calculation skill, it is highly unreliable. /look self in disgust/

Just around the same time when the breakup was about to happen, I was offered an opportunity in my current job for an overseas relocation. The timing was just too perfect. I couldn't say no. No, why would I say no?! This has been a lifetime dream of mine. You see, the whole year I was struggling to find the time to prep for my scholarship permits and docs with Schoters which I subscribed to but never had the time for - now I didn't have to reach so high, because this time it's handed to me on a silver platter. For once, life finally gave me what I want.

So, I agreed instantly. I didn't even have to think.

Two weeks ago, I was informed that my IPA has been issued and I should be able to fly there by early Feb. What an opener for a new year, right?! Until today happened... they told me that overseas assignment will be hold until further notice. Apparently, the project I'm handling is causing quite a loss to the Company so they want to cut costs and might opt for offshore assignment instead.

I am at loss of words.

Lesson learned: i've spent 5 minutes just thinking about this, and i still can't come up with anything good. I'll see and come back to this on end Feb. Fingers crossed everything's settled by then.

Yep, that's all I want to say.

Before I end this entry, I want to put here these very cute pictures of me and my 10+ years girl friends, as reminder that nothing is or will be too bleak with them around.

[jumbledofthoughts]

#2

I'm keeping this here. What for? I don't know... but I know that I want to look back into this on a happy note. One day.

I want to remember that most of the times, things in life won't work a certain way I expect it to be - and it's fine. It is. It completely is. Trust me.

I just let out a sigh as I'm writing this haha.

I mean, who am I kidding? Life has been... how do I put this into words, huh? Bitter... sweet? Mindboggling? It feels like I got punched multiple times in the most hurtful ways, but every. single. time. I kind of... managed to survive? I couldn't dodge though, so I'm left with some real ugly bruises. But they're fading, so it's fine, except for the new ones I just got HAHA.

Ok enough with the metaphor.

Now on to the real talk. This would be the first time I'm voicing out what I'm about to.

Yep, there goes another sigh.

Back on August last year, I broke up with my longtime boyfriend - 5 years and 8 months went down the drain. It was a mutual agreement, I initiated though. The guy was a coward, so I did what I had to do. I always knew it was coming, we were like spoiled milk, what do you expect? He made me wait, maybe too taken aback with my advance. I remember one time during my suffocating wait, I was praying and silently crying in the upstairs room, holding back a scream because everyone was asleep and I ended up with the most terrible stomach cramps I've had in my entire 27 years of living. That made me stop crying abruptly, and the next thing I knew I was clutching on to the nearest table tops because I thought I was gonna die from the pain. Very dramatic.

So then the breakup happened. It was sad, but I was mostly relieved that the spoiled milk had finally find a home - yes, the garbage dump, duh! We also had this stupid thing where we say "Let's be friends. I have a feeling we'd make the best of friends even we're no longer lovers" as a closing statement. Total cuckoo move. Can't believe Vicky was right.

To be honest it was hilarious watching myself going through my first breakup. Definitely a journey not to be missed out. I'm not gonna go into details but let me paint you a picture through the songs I associated during this 'self-discovery' phase.

Phase 1: Astrid S - It's Ok If You Forget Me

Phase 2: Taylor Swift - Tolerate It & Champange Problem

Phase 3: Billie Eilish - Happier Than Ever

Phase 4: Cokelat - Karma

Phase 5: Tulus - Hati Hati di Jalan

Yeah, I basically went through the infamous 5 stages of grief without me realizing it.

Fast forward to October. I am ashamed to admit this, but deep down I kind of expected him to wish me Happy Birthday. But of course, he didn't. Fucking asshole. Let's be friends, my ass.

Then, came December. If this was a movie, it must be the crazy sister of Denis Villeneuve's Enemy - for its next level of mindfuckery. It actually left me saying 'what the fuck?' even today, because what in the actual fuck is happening, really? I blinked and what... he got married now?

He fucking did.

Now, this was the moment where it finally came down to me that; this is it - The Grand Finale. I've had billions of scenarios I always play in my head; what's gonna happen that now we're on our own. It did occurred to me that cases like this would happen but I calculated and the chances are slim, because I was confident that I'll have it first. I'll be happy first. I'll meet someone first. And he'll live a miserable life knowing I am the best he's had. Oh, I know I am. Still, what a dick. Good luck, though.

Lesson learned: please improve on your calculation skill. It is highly unreliable. /look self in disgust/

Just around the same time when the breakup was about to happen, I was offered an opportunity in my current job for an overseas relocation. The timing was just too perfect. I couldn't say no. No, why would I say no?! This has been a lifetime dream of mine. You see, the whole year I was struggling to find the time to prep for my scholarship permits and docs with Schoters which I subscribed to but never had the time for - now I didn't have to reach so high, because it's handed to me on a silver platter.

So, I agreed instantly. I didn't even have to think.

Two weeks ago, I was informed that my IPA has been issued and I should be able to fly there by early Feb. What an opener for a new year, right?! Until today happened... they told me that overseas assignment will be hold until further notice. Apparently, the project I'm handling is causing quite a loss to the Company so they want to cut costs and might opt for offshore assignment instead.

I am at loss of words.

Lesson learned: i've spent 5 minutes just thinking about this, and i still can't come up with anything good. I'll see and come back to this on end Feb.

Yep, that's all I want to say.

Before I end this, I want to put here these very cute pictures of me and my 10+ years girl friends, as reminder that nothing is or will be too bleak with them around.

[shesclearlya3]

Summer of ‘84

Xavier Plympton x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,426

Warnings: smut, language, sex in a public place, au!, all characters are 18+, i’m sorry if this is bad lmao

**using my current tag-list so feel free to ignore**

It was June of 1984 when you and your close friends returned to your jobs at the local drive-in theatre the last Summer before you started college.

It was your second year working here, and you were sad that it would be the last. It was an easy job. You'd work nights only five days a week. It was nice being able to make your own money and have fun with your friends while doing it. 

You were working the concession stand tonight with Xavier Plympton. You had been friends with him the longest out of the bunch. He was one of the best co-workers you could ever ask for. Despite his constant complaining about dealing with customers, he was always armed with perfect comebacks when you were stuck dealing with a Karen. Plus, he did work hard, which was a relief. Some of the other teenagers you worked with were only there for the paycheck, clearly. 

You were particularly excited because you were able to see the screen playing Gremlins and Ghostbusters. You rarely got to enjoy the movies. You were either working the ticket booth or continuously walking around, making sure nobody tried to sneak under the rotting wooden gates surrounding the lot. 

It was just after 9:30 when Gremlins started, and you and Xavier had just finished up the line.

"Let's hope the crowd stays away so we can clean up." he sighed, stretching his arms above his head. The ugly yellow shirts you had to wear rode up a little, and you caught yourself staring before a pair of hands covered your eyes.

"Gah!" you said, and you heard the loud laugh of Montana Duke behind you. 

"Sheesh, you're such a scaredy-cat!"

"I was distracted!" you said, your cheeks burning as you started to wipe down the counter, which was covered in popcorn kernels. "Shouldn't you be with Brooke right now?"

Montana slid over the countertops, going to the pop machine where she started filling up two cups. "We're parched, it's just now starting to cool down a bit. Larry is making us patrol for the next forty-five minutes before the others take over."

You nodded, scrubbing a particularly stubborn spot of butter that was probably from the night before. 

Xavier had laughed at what Montana said, and you immediately knew why. They had been caught in quite the compromising position the first night the theatre was opened this season. You were surprised they hadn't been fired, and Brooke had given two shifts away after the fact to avoid being questioned about it. 

"He's a fucking pervert anyway," Montana said, putting lids on both cups. "I gotta go. Be good!" she called sweetly before she bounced out of the rickety building. 

"I wish these fucking fans would work!" Xavier grumbled, fumbling with the switch of the nearest overhead fan. It made a creaking noise, the metal blades moving an inch before it stopped. 

"They're ancient," you laughed, finally getting the spot cleaned. "Candace told me they've been here since this place opened."

"These are like forty years old then, how fucking convenient," he grumbled, before giving up. "You'd think they could afford to replace them."

"Watch your language," you scolded. "We don't need another complaint."

Xavier smirked at you, starting to restock the popcorn buckets. "y/n, you should really stop being so uptight, babe." he teased you.

"I am not uptight!" you gasped, your mouth falling open as you dropped the rag into the sanitizer bucket. 

"Exactly what someone uptight would say!" he retorted, laughing at you, his hands methodically stacking the buckets handful by handful. 

"You won't think it's amusing when you're fired, you ass!" you said, causing Xavier to throw his head back and laugh rambunctiously. 

"That's the least of my worries, babe," he grinned at you, and you felt your heart swell. "What would you do without me?" he said.

"I'd probably actually get some work done..." you mumbled, starting to refill the popcorn machine with fresh kernels. "But I'd have to deal with the bitchy Karens all on my own."

"Watch your language!" Xavier mocked you, balling up the plastic and tossing it in the nearest trash-can. "Hey y/n- oh, someone is coming."

You told Xavier you would take care of the customer as he started restocking the cups, watching as you showed the young boy all of the ice creams you had. He was cute, probably no older than eleven with thick-framed glasses and a toothy smile. 

"Thank you, Miss," he said, before hurrying out.

"I think he liked you," Xavier said as you closed the register. "That's cute."

You rolled your eyes, seeing Larry sitting in the projection room, already asleep. "Shut up, he's young."

The next half-an-hour you only helped two other customers. Many people came to use the bathrooms, but other than that, you were alone with Xavier. You had cleaned up everything there was to clean, and you decided to dig out the book you brought to pass the time. 

Xavier watched the screen through the large window next to the entrance, the portable stereo tuned into the theatre's station. He was very amused by Gizmo, even gushing at the little creature.

"That's cute," you mumbled to yourself, chewing on your lip to keep from giggling.

"I heard that," he said crossly, his eyes on you now.

"I didn't say anything," you shrugged, bookmarking your page. "I'm hungry, I want a pretzel."

"Lucky for you, I popped one in for you," Xavier said, gesturing towards the pretzel heater right next to him. "It should be done now."

"Thank you, Xavier!" you said happily, coming over and taking it out. Xavier watched you, and he reached next to him for a bucket of popcorn he had gotten for himself. He put a handful in his mouth as you started pouring nacho cheese into a plastic container. 

"Hey, y/n?" he asked again, looking at you.

"Yes?" you asked, watching the hot cheese, feeling your stomach growl with hunger.

"Do you remember my friend Chet? He graduated last year?"

You nodded, moving to sit next to him on the counter. "The cute dark-haired kid who is really athletic?" 

"That's him," Xavier said, stuffing more popcorn into his mouth. "I ran into him the other day, and I told him I was working here again. He said he worked here for a season before we met."

You encouraged him to keep going, wondering where this was going. You knew Chet Clancy, mainly because he was a popular jock who dated multiple girls throughout the years. You have only spoken a few words with him in your entire life, but he was sweet enough. 

"Uhm..." he said, looking a little nervous now. You thought it was odd, he rarely became this way around you. "He asked about you."

You perked up, tearing your pretzel in half as you watched him see if he were joking. He wasn't, looking you dead in the eyes, and you could see he was honest.

"He asked about me?" you asked, shocked.

"Yeah, he kind of... Hinted, that he was interested in you."

You found yourself smiling. "Really? I never really talked to him..."

Xavier nodded, "I know. I was a little shocked myself."

You ate some of your food, now thinking about dating Chet Clancy. You never would have imagined it, and not even because you rarely knew him. He just seemed so out of reach. You weren't the "normal" crowd he hung out with.

"Wow... That's insane," you said simply.

"Yeah... But I kind of choked up and said we were dating."

You spit out your tiny bite of food, covering your mouth as Xavier looked at you with wide eyes. "WE'RE NOT DATING!"

"Shh!" Xavier said, almost dropping his popcorn in an attempt to cover your mouth. "I know, y/n, I don't even know what happened," he growled, tossing the bucket aside. "I panicked."

"Why would you panic?" you asked, wrinkling your nose as you picked up your un-chewed food with a napkin and tossed it in the bin. "We're friends."

"I got... Jealous," he replied lamely.

You glanced up at him, and he was looking at his lap, his face wrinkled in embarrassment. You were thrown for a loop. As long as you had known each other, not once did there seem to be any romantic inclination. Of course, you've crushed on him a bit, I mean, who wouldn't? He was funny, charismatic, gorgeous, and saw something in you that he wanted to be your friend.

"Why?" was all you managed, your voice hushed and confused.

"It made me realize that I like you. And we're not little kids anymore. If I didn't tell you how I felt, then I might lose the opportunity to tell you." he said, before laughing dryly, "I guess it took another guy being interested in you for me to wise up and stop being an idiot."

You started to grin at him, and Xavier looked relieved. "Does this mean you're not mad?" 

"I'm not mad," you assured him, putting your food to the side. "I'm just surprised. I never would have thought..."

"Babe, I'm clearly head over heels for you, I tease you relentlessly because I like to make you laugh. And I like when you get snappy with me." he grinned at you, his eyes sparkling as you heard a group of teenagers pile into the bathroom, giggling. 

You scooted closer to Xavier, and you could smell his body wash. "I just thought it meant you liked to pick on me." 

He threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. "I do, with love."

After that, you had spent the rest of Gremlins talking, sitting close to each other, and giggling madly. You had to go back to work once intermission started, and you felt your heart-beating wildly every time you heard Xavier's voice. You listened as girls giggled and whispered about him, cashing them out with a broad smile. At one point, you heard him go, "Sorry, ladies, I'm taken."

When the last movie started, you turned off all the machines, cleaning everything down quickly. The one thing you liked about this theatre is that intermission was the final call. You'd have time to clean up and be on your way home before the second movie was even half-way through.

You had set aside some food for the others while you finished up. Brooke Thompson and Montana came in, taking some leftovers and asking if you wanted to watch Ghostbusters. 

"We'll be out in a bit," Xavier said, gesturing to the broom he was holding. "Whoever worked in here last time did a shit job."

"Cool, we'll be in my car!" Montana said, before scurrying out with Brooke, their arms full of popcorn, soda, and nachos.

"I'm so ready to skip this joint!" Xavier said after he finished swimming, and you switched off the first set of lights. 

"Me too. Are there any nachos left?" you asked, locking up the safe.

"Just enough for the both of us," he replied. You stood up, walking over to him, and you ended up tripping over your shoes, colliding with his chest.

"Oh shit, you alright?" he asked, grabbing you tightly.

"I'm fine!" you laughed, looking up at his figure towering over you. "I think I tripped over the crack in the floor..."

Xavier stared down at you, and you felt his hand come up and brush against your cheek. You felt your skin tingle underneath his touch. "We're gonna get caught."

"I don't care," Xavier whispered before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

You held your breath as you melted into his touch. You've been in a few relationships before in your time, but nothing ever compared to what you were currently feeling. Xavier held your head in his hands, your kiss becoming more heated until you felt him pulling you towards the back, where the storage was kept.

"We're gonna get-."

Xavier cupped a hand over your mouth, pulling you into the closet before shutting the door. There was a single light hanging above you that he flicked on, and you could barely see the movie screen from the rectangular window sitting high above your heads.

"Trust me, Babe. If you're quiet, we'll be fine."

You nodded, holding onto him as Xavier pushed an empty box onto the floor, lifting you up and setting you on top of a sturdy table. There wasn't a whole lot of room. He reached over to lock the door.

"What are you doing?" You asked, kicking off your shoes. You were wearing denim shorts, and the air around you was much colder than you expected. You got goosebumps as Xavier played with the button of your shorts.

"Could I take these off?" He asked.

You nodded shyly, biting your lip as he slowly unbuttoned them, the only sound being your shared breathing and the zipper being lowered down.

"Have you done this before, y/n?" He asked, his hands gripping the waistband of your shorts.

"I've done a few things..." you said, your cheeks becoming hot.

"I'll be gentle, I promise." He said, before starting to tug your undergarments off. You lifted your hips, and he quickly let them drop to the floor. Outside you could hear the audience collectively laughing at something.

Xavier shed out of his shirt, throwing it on the nearest shelf. He wasn't overly muscular but was nicely toned. You've seen him shirtless many times over the years, but this time was different. He was beautiful.

"Are you enjoying the view?" He asked arrogantly, flashing you a smile as you instinctively crossed your legs. "Ah, spread them for me, babe." He kindly scolded.

"Of course, I am!" You respond, "You're hot, and you know it, babe."

"Cute," he winked at you, before looping his arms underneath your legs. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you closer, spreading your legs out for him. You could feel how wet you were against the crisp air, and you wanted to die from embarrassment at how easily you became aroused.

"Remember to stay quiet." He said, grinning at you mischievously. "You don't want to get caught."

You squeezed your eyes shut at his arrogance. "Fuck you."

The words had barely left your mouth when you felt his tongue lick a quick swipe along your thigh. You shuddered at the feeling; your stomach trembling as Xavier purposely teased you. You weren't lying when you said you have a little experience. But, you never received oral before. You gave it once, and that was it.

You let out a quiet gasp as he finally licked along your folds, your hands itching to grab onto his hair already. You refrained, lifting them above your head to keep from messing anything up.

Xavier was skilled as he ran his tongue gingerly along your folds, before pushing his tongue inside. The feeling caused hundreds of butterflies to fly over your stomach. Your thighs clenched as he adjusted his hold on you, kneeling down to push his head deeper between your legs.

"Oh, fuck!" You said a little too loudly before you felt his hand covering your mouth. You mewled and sighed against him as Xavier slowly ate you out. You always heard from Montana that it was one of the best feelings in the world, but you never imagined it being quite like this.

Nor did you ever expect to be here with Xavier, but life was crazy.

You grabbed onto Xavier's arm as he started sucking on your clit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he teased your entrance with a single finger, barely testing the waters.

You were lost in the feeling when suddenly the door handle rattled. You jumped out of your skin, nearly trapping Xavier between your thighs when you heard the security guards' high-pitched voice. "Fuck! Larry must have locked it before he left."

Xavier freed himself, prepared to cover you with his body when the voice of Mason, a co-worker say, "It's fine, we'll just have to look in there tomorrow. I can't find the key anywhere."

You heard their footsteps fade away, and you and Xavier both glanced at each other, before giggling madly.

"I'm sorry, y/n," he whispered in your ear.

"It's not your fault?" You said, running your hand along his face now.

"I'm gonna go back down here now," he said, kissing your hand before slinking down your body again. You let him go, now covering your own mouth as he grabbed your legs, his mouth instantly closing over your clit.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his fingers once again teasing your entrance. "I'm gonna make you cum in my mouth."

Xavier continued until you were shaking so severely that he had to hold you down by the hips, almost forcing you to keep your legs open. Xavier pumped a finger inside of you, his thumb meeting your clit while his tongue teased it simultaneously.

You came in minutes, sighing loudly against your hand as Xavier cleaned you up, before placing kisses along your thighs. You breathed heavily as you sat up, quickly taking off your shirt, revealing your bra.

"Fuck, y/n," he said, allowing you to unbutton his pants, your hands fumbling to get them off as soon as possible. "You're hot."

"And horny, so please take off your pants." You begged, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. When you were completely naked, you stared at Xavier's dick, wondering how in the hell it was supposed to fit.

"Don't look so scared, babe," Xavier said, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "Have you?..."

You shook your head, "I never got this far."

Xavier nuzzled your neck, and you wrapped your legs around him as he kissed along your skin, trailing along your collarbone before placing kisses on your jawline.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked, suddenly having an epiphany on the importance of safe sex.

"There's a box behind the pack of lightbulbs," he said, and you pulled back to look at him. "Chet told me about them, I swear."

Xavier wasted no time grabbing a condom from said hiding place, and you watched as he slid it on with ease. You wrapped a leg around his hips again, and he hugged you while he pressed kisses to your face.

"Let me know if I'm hurting you, baby girl," he whispered, and you nodded, holding him tightly.

You focused on the sound of more laughter from the audience, keeping your breathing under control as Xavier slowly pushed inside of you. He felt you tense up, holding you tightly and not moving until you encouraged him to do so.

After a few moments, you told him to move, figuring it would worsen before it got better. Xavier nodded, still holding you tight as he rocked his hips into yours, both of you panting as you grew more comfortable having his dick inside of you.

When you felt a lot better, you laid flat against the table, keeping a leg wrapped around him while he increased his pace. Xavier's face was screwed up as the pleasure coursed throughout your body. His large hand reached forward, grabbing at your breasts while you attempted to keep your moans at bay.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," you said, trying to keep your leg from slipping off his hip.

"You're so fucking hot, babe," he said, leaning over you until you were almost nose to nose. "I want you to come for me, y/n,"

You shook your head, not wanting this to stop.

Xavier hid his laugh, increasing his face slightly. "You're going to fucking come for me, y/n."

"Make. Me." You said through clenched teeth.

Xavier laughed now, adjusting your free leg enough to easily slip his hand over your clit. He rubbed you out with his thumb, focusing on you, wanting you to come before he did.

"That's it," Xavier cooed as you finally clinched around him, crying out behind your hand as he slowed down, watching as you coated his length. "Fuck..."

You dug your heel into his skin as Xavier came, his hips stilling as he kneeled over you, kissing you deeply. You were breathless as he kissed you fiercely, hardly allowing you a break until he climbed off you.

You sat up, feeling light. "That was amazing."

Xavier grinned at you, pulling on his boxers after taking off the condom. "It's all you babe, not me."

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[msladyrosa]

I'm here to tell a story that my heart is screaming at me to tell.

This is me. I fucking hate myself, just as much as I fake loving me. I don't think I've ever been this contempt as I was in these photos. I'm awkward and I fake confidence by throwing sarcastic and snarky comments. My coping mechanism consists of lying and just hiding behind my fake me. I've created a confident, pretty and delusional front that isn't me, but it's just as real as the raw version. My raw is ugly and disgusting and I hate it. I hid it and for the love of the non existent God there is, I wish I didn't have the raw side. I write in my skin, because if I went back to cutting, then I would no longer have pretty skin that people can love. I love eating, but I don't do it, because of the fear of losing my 36,28,42 measurements. I'm suicidal, but heavens forgive if I make a joke about it in order to cope with my insane itch to make my skin purple. My arm hair is soft and the last time I shaved I was scared that someone might see the thin, white lines that are underneath. My body is sexy as fuck, but Heavens forgive me if I actually feel comfortable in it. Thoughts of "they'll be fine without me" or "it's better if I'm not here" are drowned by the words I told someone who was a suicidal as me, "killing yourself would not make the pain disappear, you're just passing it on to someone else". I'm such a fucking hypocrite, or is it just a twisted way of actual introspection? What is wrong with the way I walk funny because I'm dizzy for the lack of food is that people notice. Oh great deity in the sky, please allow them to notice, but forgive them is they dare to ask what's wrong. I look happy and relaxed in the photos, hell yes, but not I'm an anxious mess that's writing this in the middle of a mental breakdown. Parents are never the one's to blame, no forgive them for not validating their children's emotions and struggles. No, strict parenthood creates strong-willed, rightful and successful people that think of themselves as worthless, weak, pathetic excuses. Oh we lie, and we lie good. Ask actors if they had strict parents... You'll find none, why? Because strict parents will inforce you an internalized fear of failure outside of social norms and acting is "a waste of time" to their standards. Support doesn't come from the right sized bra, but it sure as fucking hell is welcoming to be held and somehow relived from a burden you didn't fucking asked for. I was so happy ya'll. I was in cloud nine. That day I had a date with a guy I like that I thought was way out of my league, I lied my way through his pseudo intellectual remarks and he believed it.

We know how to lie so good and so true that eventually you lose track of your actual motive to do it in the first place. Society wants you perky and pretty, fuck yeah they do. How do I get all perky and pretty when I only see disgusting, overdosed surroundings? It's easy to get worried when you finally realize somethings not right. It wasn't right to be kneeling at someone's feet screaming a nasty and raspy wail of pain. 10 years it took me to fucking do that and yet nothing really changed. Now I'm just looked at with pity and the quizzical look that can only mean "when is this one gonna blow up again?" Oh, honey, I won't, you're just worried that you're just realizing this now. It's easy to be outside and just stay that way.

I was so happy, all the time. I was forced to lie in order to move forward. You love me? Yeah, as long as you earn it. Are you proud? Sure, as long as you don't fail. Am I okay because I feel like this? Well, it's fine as long as you keep it in. It's beautiful. "As long as..." my reality had always been subjected to a condition, and clause, a fucking constant reminder that I have to earn my happiness. I have to earn my own idea of self worth that is diluted through your standards. I have to earn reassurance from the people I surround myself. I must assume the best case scenario but I can't be surprised when it's the worst outcome.

Having loved a mad human made me realize how flawed I am. I was happy. So, so happy I forgot I wasn't. I tortured myself through endless nights of doubt, starvation with a full kitchen. Sleepless nights contemplating self harm and then decided against it because I had work and the cute client at work would see how damaged I was. I tortured myself with the idea of loneliness in a see of people, only to realize I've been in that see long enough that I grew a tail and fins. I was plagued my guilt because I didn't love them, but when exactly did it go from happy to uttermost bullshit? I was so happy I forgot what sadness was.

I was so happy it started hurting. Hurting when I failed to do something. It was excruciating when I was not able to buy a car because I had noticed I had spent my money of pleasing those who swore they'd provide for me. I was in pain when I showered and instead of singing, I just blasted music loud enough so that nobody heard my hyperventilating bitch ass. I was in so much pain that I welcomed it as my way of happiness. I loved my pain, because I've had it my whole life.

I had it when I was in forth grade and in order to fit in I had to go a sneak around to kiss a boy, and I didn't want to. It was there when I was accused of fighting other girls, but in reality I was trying to establish my self worth, so I was punished. In fifth grade I loved a boy so much I had written beautiful words to describe how much I loved his smile, and so he said I was stalking him and he got scared; 2 months later I was in a shrinks chair talking about it; fast-forward to last night, that same boy explained to me how much he wanted to fuck me now that he had lost weight. Middle school was terrible. Seventh grade, I was constantly degrading myself because another pretty blonde chick was only my friend when she could laugh through me. I insulted a perfectly great teacher because she noticed my self destructive behavior. Eighth grade came and I was lost with a blonde boy. He was beautiful and I was not. He was friends with the girl that swore fielty to me and he chose someone else and because he chose the pretty pale skin on someone else, I settled for the kid that wantedto finger me in the bleachers during recess. Ninth grade came and I was failing classes, parents were strict and hurtful, but they aren't to blame for my shortcomings. That's when I found myself in the arms of the pretty blonde thing I had fallen for. The pretty girl had him in public, I could only have him when we snuck around and he would hold me and kiss me like holding on to his life line. I was letting him touch me, but my self hatred didn't know no boundaries so I suck to my knees and gave my first blowjob at the top of staircase wearing only a lazy purple bra and the school uniform and the shame I'll forever wear because I did it without wanting to, but because I was expected to.

I was so happy to be out of there, that I ended up sinking deeper into my lie. I was smart, new and vulnerable. That's how I met the wholesome boy I called my first boyfriend who was nice and respectful, but he was as ugly as they come. I was a queen to him, but he was looking more like the ogre on the fairy tale and there came my vanity, my ego, my selfishness. I was brutal and I couldn't care less. High school started with a bang with the boy I played with, and when he got to close to my actual raw person, I kicked him out with a bang and he cried. I just stood there not knowing how to react, so I just went on to the next person I could lead on and play. Junior year I knew was difficult, and a black boy with a nice boy and a promising basketball future came around, I once again craved approval and degraded myself to it. That's how I ended up sneaking around 10 minutes before my parents picked me up. In the second floor, I'd found myself again on my knees, and expected to give a blowjob in exchange for attention, and like before, I was hidden, and I expected to be I had tears in my eyes, but because of my shame. Senior year came in, and the black boy with the attractive body was replaced with another, but this one only had pretty eyes and the promise of spoiling me with his family's money. Once again, I said yes when he said he wanted me to be his girlfriend, at least this time I was not hidden, but I was back in the cycle and I ditched my best friend in a movie theater so that I would be in the backseat on a Dodge, sucking my pseudo boyfriend's dick with tears on my eyes, not becauseofhis size, but becausethe disgust towards myself. Like before, I was expected to do so, and so I did.

Heavens above forgive the religion to blame women for sin and lust, but instead punish us for the boys who couldn't keep their dicks to themselves. The end of senior year came, and I was relieved, but then I fell for the guy my parents liked. Humble background, similar interests, and a promise of stability. I was ditched because for him I was a whore and his friends told him so, I accepted the insults and insinuations.

I was so happy, I forgot the rest. College was great and a religious nut job, a platonic love, a semi smart dipshit with the complex of being over everyone in experience, a quiet mature man that treated me with decency, the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #1 and the suicidal broken guy who needed healing #2, later, here I am.

I was so happy in these pictures, I had no idea was contemplating my own disappearance. I write this with migrane, blue ink from a ballpoint in my thighs, with nostalgic memories of moments where my mind wasn't this crowded. I was so happy it hurt. I guess that my logic dictates that happiness is painful and that my pain can bring me joy, but fuck I was so happy.

I had everything. I was pretty, I was smart, I was important. I'm still all those things, but right this very second, I'm happy, and painful so. Heavens above forgive for I have sinned...

I dared to fail... I sinned

I dared to fall into lust... I sinned

I dared to judge... I sinned

I fucking dared to wake up every miserable day... I had sinned.

I dared to be painfully happy... I sinned

I lied... and so that's my greatest sin of all.

[caranfindel]

Recap/review 15.02: “Raising Hell”

THEN: Sam shot God! Welcome to the end. Demon!Jack. Last week's non-scary ghosts or spirits or whatever. Strangely missing from the "Then:" Sam's godhole vision. It's actually a very short "Then." Maybe the episode itself is so good, so crammed full of wonderful things, that the "Then" had to be kept brief to make room for all of it.

Or then again, maybe not.

Now. We're still in Harlan, Kansas. A woman holding a scarf over her nose and mouth sneaks into the forbidden zone, and is startled by a neighbor. Or "neighbor." She's seen Close Encounters and knows the benzene story is fake (but if it was true, lady, I don't think that scarf would save you). And yet she's apparently never seen a horror movie, because the fact that her "neighbor" is silently and creepily staring at her doesn't raise any alarm bells. He stabs her a few times and then smokes out into an old-timey ghost who says "Disembowel. D-I-S-E-M-B-O-W-E-L. Disembowel." Well. Okay. She certainly doesn't look disemboweled, but I'll take your word for it. I mean, you spelled it and everything.

Title card. (BTW, you need to check out this very through breakdown of everything you're missing in the title card. It's fantastic.)

Nighttime. Harlan High School. Sam is large and in charge, but the people are restless. And apparently there are "hunters in the zone." Sam gets everyone's attention and tells them the EPA will be here tomorrow (a lie) and they need to stay out of the zone (the truth) and is adorably befuddled when he asks if there are any questions and everyone raises their hand. He's wearing a huge chain around his neck and, unfortunately, has gone back to the undershirt.

[[MORE]]

[[MORE]]

The zone. Dean and Belphagar. Dean's EMF meter is going crazy, and Belphagar says there are spirits about (are they ghosts? souls? spirits?) but they don't like him so they skedaddled. (Do we believe that?) Dean can't believe he's working with a demon again, and Belphagar can't believe he's working with a hunter, and it's the classic buddy comedy all over again. Except it's not a comedy and they're not buddies. (Do I miss Metatron?) He reminds us that his rationale for working with hunters is that he liked Hell the way it was. (Do we believe that?)

There's a fiery blast at the zone border, and even though Dean was facing it and Belphagar was facing in the other direction, Belphagar is the one who points it out and says "escape attempt, eleven o'clock." The bad guys can't cross the barrier, but rock salt can, which is convenient. Dean blasts a spirit away, who I believe is the same one from the "Then" but I can't be bothered to confirm and is relieved that the warding still works. Belphagar expositions that it won't last forever, and these ghosts/spirits/whatever are more dangerous than average. For example, the ghost Dean just shot was Francis Tumbelty, aka Jack the Ripper.

(Sidebar: Okay, I did actually rewind and use closed-captioning to confirm what Jack said, because what I heard was Francis Tomelty. And here's how my brain works: I can't remember my kid's phone number, I can't remember my license plate number, I can't remember to call the guy to fix the garage door opener, but I do remember that musician Sting's first wife was named Frances Tomelty. That's how useless my brain is. But Wikipedia confirms that Francis Tumbelty is, in fact, a Jack the Ripper suspect.)

I know, Dean, I feel the same way.

High school. It's daylight now. The citizens are still restless, someone's wife is "missing," the benzene story is wearing thin (sidebar: I'm still using captions, and they misspelled benzene,) and people are plotting an escape.

Zone. Ghosts/spirits/whatever are gathering in one of the houses. Francis Tumbelty, who does not have a British accent (but it turns out he was born in Ireland but raised in America so okay, I guess someone did their research), informs the group that they were released from Hell by God himself. And all of these spirits know what hunters are. And Belphegar's name is actually Belphegor. Well. So much to learn tonight. Tumbelty says they need to gather the spirits who are still in hiding. And they can break the warding because "Warding is a door, doors have locks, locks have keys." Actually, the analogy I would have used is that warding is a lock but WHATEVER. Their plan is to "make it as ugly as possible for those who stand guard." Well, the ineffective spooky makeup will help.

Outside. Hunters are patrolling the perimeter. Civilians sneak out of the bushes and then walk right down the middle of the dang street. And then meet a couple of very unscary ghosts. Oh no, what will happen?

I don't know, because we cut back to the high school. They found the first woman's body, and Cas thinks they need to tell her family, and Sam's all, can't do that yet, people are gonna panic. They're interrupted by the arrival of Rowena, which was a surprise to me because I covered the guest star credits. Although it shouldn't have been a surprise, since Dean called her for help in the previous episode. (See how useless my brain is?) She pretends to be more interested in Cas than Sam but I'm not fooled.

Sam says "Remember a couple of years ago when we were trying to get rid of Amara," as if that's how the conversation would go, as if that's anything either of them would need to be reminded of. What he really would have said was "You know the soul bomb you made for Amara? We need another one of those."

WHATEVER.

They don't want to use it as a bomb, they just want a way to capture the ghosts. Rowena thinks it would be too difficult, but they're interrupted by someone who tells Sam they have "a situation."

Zone. The situation is that the two civilians are facing down Dean and Belphegor. And apparently they've been standing there long enough for Sam to actually show up at the zone, which is miles away from where he was. WHATEVER. Dean explains that the guy is married to the woman who was D-I-S-E-M-B-O-W-E-L-E-D earlier and came to look for her. (BTW, we're almost 10 minutes in, and this is the first scene with Sam and Dean together.) Sam, in his kind way, tells them they need to go back to the school. Then black goo drips out of their eyes and Dean realizes they're possessed. The whole standing-and-staring part didn't clue him in (WHATEVER) but now he gets it.

Bowlegs! Hair blowing in the breeze! Something for everyone!

Tumbelty appears and tells them if they don't open the warding, the spirits are going to kill these two civilian vessels. The civilians drop to the ground, groaning in pain, and I remember back when the guys would have let the spirits out in order to save two innocent people. Or at least would have been conflicted about it. (WHATEVER.)

However, some unexpected shots ring out, sprinkling the possessed civilians with... confetti? How festive. Tumbelty zaps out and the Winchesters and Belphegor turn to see none other than Arthur Ketch. Who is also a surprise to me. I guess that gig as an insurance agent didn't work out. Dean seems ridiculously annoyed to see him. Ridiculous considering that they were working together fairly recently. (WHATEVER.)

And now, since none of my regular download sources worked out and I'm forced to rewatch on the CW app, I'm sitting through commercials. Like a goddamn animal.

Back at the school. Ketch says he just happened to be in the area when they sent out the call for hunters. Dean's still not pleased. What is his problem? Am I forgetting something? Did they leave on bad terms? His gun, stolen from the BMoL, shoots iron flakes. Which somehow expels the spirit without hurting the vessel. He and Rowena reacquaint themselves, and she holds no hard feelings against him regarding the whole prisoner thing, since he let her escape. Well, you actually bought that escape, Rowena, but okay. There is an uncomfortable level of eyefucking, as least as far as the Winchesters are concerned.

Belphegor shows up and they have to explain to Ketch that Jack is dead and oh, Sam's face, when he says "dead." This is the first time this episode has made me feel anything. Well, anything good. And it turns out Ketch was actually contracted by "an attractive female demon" (seriously, that just means a demon in an attractive female vessel but WHATEVER) to kill Belphegor. Her name is Ardat and I guess she's gonna show up later. Yawn.

At least sad Sammy is good.

Reno? I laughed and said ha ha, I wonder if Amara is here and it turns out she is! (Because, again, I covered the guest stars.) She's getting a massage. Her maseusse is replaced by Chuck, who looks about 10-20 years younger than he did the last time we saw him. (Just for Men. Find it in the men's section.) She's annoyed with his presence. He's rambling. He liked the Game of Thrones ending, which I guess is supposed to signal what an awful hack of a storyteller he is. Or to warn us that we won't like the ending of our own Show. Or both.

High school. Poor Cas has to lie to Restless Citizen #3 that they're looking for the other missing citizens. "You said you'd keep us safe!" the guys says. That cuts deep, man. Meanwhile, Rowena has given Dean a shopping list. She asks him about Ketch, even though, as Dean points out, they've obviously met. "That was more of a torturer-torturee relationship. Fun, but I didn't really get to know him." But Dean doesn't want to play matchmaker, and says she shouldn't get involved with Ketch. "I mean, Sam is right here," he says. "Why don't you guys get off high center and do it?" (No, not really.)

Cas comes up behind Dean, all rumpled and sad and wanting a hug, and he apologizes for "dropping the puck." Dean doesn't want to hear it. He's so very angry, at Cas and at Chuck and at his life being one giant rat maze. Cas doesn't think their whole existence has been a lie, because even though they were in a maze, they were still living their lives in that maze. That's what life is. Chuck sets up the obstacles, but they still run their own obstacle course. Dean doesn't accept this.

It's interesting that Dean is the one who's taking the truth about Chuck so hard. Sam and Cas were the ones who had faith, and you'd think they'd be knocked harder by the realization that there was never a benevolent God. But on the other hand, Sam's so used to being manipulated by outside forces; this is nothing new to him. And Cas has already seen how the sausage is made. So they're both just, yeah, this is how it is, let's deal with it.

However. I'm not feeling the Dean-Cas conflict at all. I don't really care. And I suspect it's going to be a Big Deal. {sigh}

I’m definitely feeling angry Dean. So much.

Zone. Nighttime. Dean and Ketch are on patrol. I mean, I guess it makes sense to leave Chief Sam in charge at the school, but I'm tired of the guys being split up. Dean gives Ketch one of the giant chains they've been wearing, and says it's iron, to prevent possession. Wow, that would be a heavy chain. They talk about God and Rowena, and then Dean gets a text message. "Trouble. Two hunters haven't checked in." Uh oh!

Meat packing plant. Seriously? There is a meat packing plant in the middle of this residential area? So many chains hanging from the ceiling. I wonder what kind of cage flashbacks Sam would have in here. (And if you fic that, I'd like to be notified, please and thank you.) Dean and Ketch search the place and then it gets cold and then Ketch is hurled against a wall. Hard. Lizzie Borden appears, prepared to take an ax to Dean's head, but an electronically altered voice says "Stop! Get out!" She zaps out and we see the voice belongs to... Kevin???

Turns out when Chuck said he was sending Kevin to Heaven, he lied. Um. Why? What's the rationale for this? I mean, he did things to make a good story, but what was the purpose of sending Kevin to Hell and not letting the Winchesters (or anybody else) know? Dean promises they'll get him to Heaven, and Kevin accept this happily, because Kevin knows that Dean always takes care of him, as promised. (Ha.) Kevin can feel the wards weakening, but he doesn't know if the other spirits can detect it. And the other spirits are afraid of Kevin because he was personally cast down by God. Um. Okay. WHATEVER. But this tells Dean they can use him as a spy.

Reno. Chuck is flipping through channels, and he spends a couple of seconds watching a cooking show where the recipe involves tripe. Which is so meta, isn't it?

He's whiny. I'm over it. So is Amara. And she suddenly detects (WHATEVER) that he needs her for some reason. She can feel his own version of the godhole? She pokes at it and it hurts. "Something happened. You're not complete. You're not at full strength."

Zone. Sam doesn't think using Kevin is safe. Well, he's already dead, so. Belphegor shows up and they're all, your wards are failing and he's all, duh, I told you that was happening, I thought you heroes would have this wrapped up by now. (Are they really fading due to the nature of wards, or is this deliberate? Discuss.) And this spell was a one-time thing - he can't do it again. Because...? We'll never know, because neither brother asks. WHATEVER.

This conversation is like some people. Stupid but pretty.

Belphegor knows Kevin and calls him a "whiny millenial" and my goodness, he gets around a lot for a low-level grunt, doesn't he? He tells the guys that Kevin can't get into Heaven because once a soul is cast into Hell, Heaven can't take it. I am quite sure that Show has forgotten about John and Bobby, who both accomplished that very thing, and I'm shocked to find Show actually address this. Belphegor says God made an exception, and that isn't likely to happen again, since God doesn't like them any more. Oh no! The only way to fix this is if someone else takes over for God!

Reno. Chuck checks out his own godhole, which looks just like Sam's. He pokes at it and winces in pain.

Zone. Sam feels pain in his own godhole. Because they're connected! He lies that he's okay and it's getting better and Dean's all yeah, right.

Sam, for a professional liar, you are so bad at it.

Zone. Spirit meeting. They know the wards are fading. Tumbelty thinks they should attack at a weak point, rather than waiting for the whole thing to collapse. Kevin shows up. They all know him, and some fear him. But Tumbelty knows he's buds with the Winchesters. Because all these spirits know the Winchesters. You know, I can understand all the demons knowing who they are. That's justified. But every resident of Hell? I'm not feeling it. WHATEVER.

High school. More heavy flirting between Rowena and Ketch. Somehow Ketch knows something she doesn't know - that a jolt of electricity will fast-forward her spell. Can we just skip this part? It makes as much sense as the Rowena/Gabriel detour when they were trying to open the rift. They're interrupted by a call from Dean, who demands she hurry. Yes, please.

Zone. Rowena shows up with a bag and runs right into Tumbelty. Who knows her. Because they used to date. All this romance for Rowena, and Sam's still sitting alone at the high school. Come on, Ro. Climb that mountain. Tumbelty tells her they've got Kevin, and sends a message for the Winchesters to meet them at their spirit house. Ketch shows up behind him, with his iron confetti gun, and blasts him, but Tumbelty whacks him with a rock. However, Rowena escapes.

{Commercial time. Zombieland 2 looks good.}

TFW is finally all together. Rowena tells them about Kevin. Dean asks if she has the soulcatcher, and for some reason, Sam has a problem with the name soulcatcher. I suppose this was supposed to be humorous. She does, but she doesn't know if it will work.

Spirit house. Winchesters show up. Tumbelty says if they shut down the warding, he won't devour Kevin. They say no. Tumbelty sticks his hand into Kevin, and this takes a really really long time, but Rowena finally shows up with the crystal and catches all of their souls. Boy, it's a good time devouring Kevin's soul took so very, very long. Rowena tells them this crystal isn't as powerful as the earlier version, and can only gather a few souls at a time. In fact, some of the souls here got away. Oooh, I wonder who.

Kevin tells them about the plan to break through the warding at the weakest point. Jump to the weakest point. There are at least 100 spirits there, according to Belphegor, and more are coming. Dean brings his gun up when someone approaches, but it's only Ketch. Oh, good, he escaped safely from Tumbelty's clutches! How fortunate. It's odd that he's no longer wearing that huge iron chain, though.

Dean tries shooting at the spirits they can't see, but Belphegor tells him there are too many. So Rowena goes forth with her soulcatcher. She still seems to be on this side of the warding, which means she's able to drag the souls through the barrier. I wonder if it would have worked better if she'd gone past the barrier. Then Ketch backhands her because, SURPRISE SURPRISE, he's actually possessed. He drips black goo from his eyes, just to confirm, and picks up the soulcatcher. Dean tries to shoot him, but is conveniently out of ammo. Tumbelty!Ketch monologues and then Dean pulls out his handgun and shoots him and he... tosses the soulcatcher to Dean? Drops it horizontally? Somehow, the thing ends up flying into Dean's hand.

WHATEVER.

(Or did Ketch toss it to him once he was depossessed? Discuss.)

Rowena takes it back and sucks up the few visible souls, including Tumbelty's. Yay! Success! Is Ketch alive? Dunno!

Time jump. Ketch is alive, with only a wounded shoulder, and is being loaded into an ambulance. Cas tells Sam that he tried to heal him, but couldn't. "You're just tired," Sam says. "We all are." Oh, I don't think so, Sam. Dean apologizes to Ketch, and lets us know it was an iron bullet, which is why it expelled Tumbelty. Ketch and Rowena exchange a longing glance. Dean stares. Angrily, maybe? Angry that Mary's ex dared to look for love again? Angry that Rowena is flirting with someone else right in front of Sam? Angry that Ketch is such a wuss that he actually needs an ambulance, and medical treatment, for a mere bullet to the shoulder? Angry that he's stuck inside a Buckleming episode? All of the above? He and Rowena exchange an uncomfortable look.

Aftermath! Kevin doesn't want to stay in the zone and hang out with the guys. He knows he can't get into Heaven, so he's just gonna ghost around and wander the earth. Sam tells him this is a terrible way to exist, and Kevin points out that it's better than Hell. And Kevin and Sam give us what might be the motto for just this episode, or maybe for the entire season:

I'm sorry, Kevin. I wish there was some way to make this right.

Me too. But there isn't. And sometimes, you just gotta accept that.

Kevin tells the Winchesters he loves them (d'aw) and they don't say it back (aw) and Belphegor quite easily makes a little opening in the barrier. So easily, that it really makes you wonder why he has so little power to keep it going. Yep, it sure does. Kevin is gone. Sad waves.

Reno. Amara is hitting the road. Chuck isn't invited. And she knows he's too weak to do anything about it. He can't leave this world without her help, and she ain't helping.

Zone. We see dozens of glowing souls flitting about. The warding won't last long. We need a plan B. "How," asks Dean. How indeed.

So. When I watched this for the first time last night, I desperately wanted to fast forward through the scenes with the spirits in the house. And the Ketch/Rowena stuff. It wasn't any better on rewatch. Some of this episode was just the usual Buckleming nonsense - badly written, stupid things happen for stupid reasons, yada yada yada. But the Kevin plot... can we blame that on the Buckleming? Or was that a showrunner master plan? Either way, it's annoying. And probably pointless. The only good thing about this episode was the confirmation of the connection between Sam and Chuck. I noticed a distinct lack of excitement on my Tumblr feed, so maybe a lot of us feel the same way. If you haven't watched this one yet, my vote is: don't bother.

Please help me stay unspoiled, thanks!

[quaylinsims]

True to his word, Henry had the coach driver stop in a town on the way to his cousin's house. At first glance, it was super cute and historic. Everything looked to be from around the Civil War era. Much like Henry's suit and the stagecoach and the "roads" and...

Henry bought a newspaper and asked where one could go to find a pre-made dress for a little girl. He was directed to a corner shop. When we got there, I looked out and noticed the dresses and everything else were also from the 19th century. Henry's newspaper said 1850.

My heart began racing, and my head began pounding. Thoughts started flashing through my mind: How did I end up in 1850? That shouldn't be remotely possible! How do I get home? Can I get home? Do they have plumbing? Does my family know I'm gone? I hate those ruffly hoops skirts. How do I live in an era where women can't even vote? Does my family think I'm dead? Will I ever get home?

I started hyperventilating. Henry patiently waited for me to calm down, and I knew he had no idea how to help. Still, he tried. He put a cautious hand on my back and rubbed it slowly, gently.

Think! Think! One thing at a time! I need to wear clothes. This man is helping me. One thing at a time.

I slowly regained my composure and let Henry know I was ready to go.

Inside, the shop was very girly. The man behind the counter greeted Henry, who in turn said he needed to buy me a few dresses.

A few? Wow.

The man finally looked at me in my tent, his eyes widening. He quickly glanced back at Henry as if to size him up, but the latter was calm as ever.

Soon, I was trying on dresses.

Then our destination rose up amid the fields .s book, and Henry gave him some money.

"I really appreciate this, Henry," I said when we were back in the coach.

"Mr. Baldwin."

"What?"

He sighed.

"It is inappropriate for a young girl to call a man by his first name. Honestly, child, did no one teach you manners?"

Shit. I really messed that one up. That's right. 19th century. I have to be proper. I've read a lot of period novels and watched a lot of period tv. Thank you, Bridgerton. I can do that.

"Apologies, Mr. Baldwin," I correct. "I can do better. Your generosity is deeply appreciated."

I even bowed my head a little and offered a sheepish smile. He looked stunned at my reversal.

"That is much improved," he said. "Now then, Miss Swan, we will be going to my cousin's house. He is Mr. Tobias Nickelby. He has many... people in his... employ... I trust you will be well-behaved?"

"Of course, Mr. Baldwin."

He nodded and fell silent, reading his newspaper. I recalled some genealogical research I had done and the newspapers I had searched for obituaries. They published a lot of local social news, like who was passing through, who was visiting whom, whether my grandparents' homing pigeons made it back to Cleveland. I smiled and quietly chuckled to myself at the memory. I wondered what was in this newspaper.

We had to stay in an inn that night. We weren't far from Mr. Baldwin's cousin's house, but it was too far to venture further in the night. He rented me my own room for my privacy. I was grateful. It did not take me long to fall asleep, what with the eventful day and all.

We were back on the road in the early morning, eating breakfast at dawn and heading out of town. By noon, we were almost there.

"Now remember, Miss Swan, you are to call my cousin Mr. Nickelby."

"Yes, of course, sir."

He smiled.

We took a turn east. Thick trees on the right, vast fields on the left. There were men and women out working in the fields, wielding tools and carrying baskets.

Then our destination rose up amid the fields and we turned down the long driveway.

To call Mr. Nickelby's home a house was an understatement. It was a lovely mansion. Lovely until I got a closer look around me. All the workers wore tattered clothes, and none was white. Except for the odd fellow here or there just standing around barking at the others.

I wanted to cry. This was the past. I knew that. This was 1850. Of course slavery was still a thing. But to see it...

"I don't want to be here!"

Mr. Baldwin quickly turned his head at my outburst.

"I can't!"

"What ever is the matter with you?"

Mr. Baldwin sounded more surprised than upset.

"Th-this," I stammered, tears beginning to fall. "This is-isn't ri-ight!"

He looked out as we neared the plantation house's front.

"You are not wrong, child," he nearly whispered. "But we must be respectful of our host."

I wasn't sure if I could do that. I shook my head.

"How is your imagination? Can you pretend they are not there?"

I must have given him quite the stare because he looked back at me with shock.

"Remember your manners."

His tone was almost scolding, but before I could say anything, he was hopping out of the coach.

Mr. Nickelby -- whose formal name I use out of respect for Mr. Baldwin, not the vile filth that owned humans -- greeted his cousin with a roaring "Welcome!" Mr. Baldwin gestured to the coach, and said something about me. The former waved a greeting in my direction and escorted Mr. Baldwin inside.

I had to leave the coach.

I stepped foot onto a working plantation, and I shuddered. I knew from school and documentaries and movies how frighteningly awful they could be. I looked around for something that didn't seem tainted by malevolence, and I saw a small tombstone under a tree.

"That there was Mrs. Nickelby's favorite tree," said a voice behind me.

I turned to find a beautiful woman in a yellow dress and an apron standing about four feet away. I could just make out a scar on her left brow under her hair and a tattoo on her right wrist. She caught me staring at it.

"Come, Miss. There is a room for you."

She led me upstairs to a very frilly room.

"Thank you," I said, my voice catching in my throat.

I caught sight of her tattoo again. I knew it was a brand. I wanted to cry again.

"I am so, so sorry," I say, trying not sob.

"I'm surprised you care, Miss. If I may say so."

"Of course you may. And I promise you: this will all end one day."

She gave me one of those looks adults give children when they've said something so innocent that their naivity is both adorable and sad. I knew this look; I'd given it to my nephews. It broke my heart that she didn't have that hope.

I did not go down to dinner that night. For the next three days, Mr. Nickelby entertained Mr. Baldwin, and I ate what little I could in my room. I never met his daughter, and she never tried to introduce herself to me. Though I understood we were about the "same" age.

Finally, Mr. Baldwin knocked on the door.

"Come in."

He entered, took one look at my I-just-finished-ugly-crying face, and frowned.

"What has you so upset, child?"

I couldn't talk about how I was stuck 171 years before my "present" and so far removed from those I cared for, but I felt I could possibly mention the horrors I knew about and even had seen from my window. I took a deep breath.

"I hate this place," I admitted. "Enslaving humans beings, it's just so wrong!"

He pulled the chair from the corner to the side of the bed.

"Just yesterday, I saw an overseer whip a man so violently that--"

I had to pause. I didn't think I had more in me.

"It was awful. The crack of the whip. The blood. I could tell what it was even at night."

I buried my face in my hands and tried some deep breathing exercises.

"I am sorry, Miss Swan. No child should have to see that."

I looked up at Mr. Baldwin.

"No human should have to endure that," I answered.

My tone was harsher than I would have liked it to be, but Mr. Baldwin didn't show any shock or disppointment.

"Well, we will be leaving in the morning," he said, rising from the chair. "Hopefully you will feel better once we are on our way."

Through the lens of the 21st century, it nearly enraged me that he wasn't more upset by things. Everywhere I looked, everything I saw reminded me that I was in 1850, yet I could not wrap my head around what I knew to be an ass-backward, hateful, ignorant way of life.

It was somewhat of a relief that Mr. Baldwin at least also disagreed with what those in the south were doing.

It took two weeks to get to Philadelphia. I was relieved to be in the North. I was just about to ask Mr. Baldwin if I would be staying with him.

"I have written ahead to a cousin of mine here in Philadelphia," he told me over breakfast. "She is a teacher at a school for girls, and I have secured you a room there."

I was stunned.

"Do not leave your mouth hanging open, young lady."

"I'm sorry, Mr. Baldwin. I'm just surprised."

"Why? You can read. You are an intelligent girl. Why shouldn't you go to school?"

Well, I can't disagree. I've always loved school, but it's a little elementary for me, my dear Baldwin. I do have advanced degrees.

"You are always so generous, Mr. Baldwin. I wish I deserved it."

"I will leave you with an allowance, and I will send more regularly."

I was speechless. This sort of kindness always made me feel uncomfortable, and I couldn't understand why anyone would want to dote on me.

"Why are you so kind to me, Mr. Baldwin?" I asked quietly.

He smiled and placed his napkin on the table.

"Come, I want to make a stop first."

The stop, it turned out, was for me. Mr. Baldwin took me to a bookstore on our way to the school and told me to pick out anything I wanted. Of course, the books I really wanted to read weren't out yet. But I found a few.

"This may be the most generous thing you've done for me yet," I smiled.

"I'm glad you're happy," he he said with a chuckle. "We are near the school, so you can always come back here."

"Oh, I will."

I wondered about the possibility of somehow getting home and bringing some mint condition first editions with me.

He wasn't wrong; the school was very close. His cousin, much nicer to look at and not a slaver, welcomed us in. She was warm and comforting, not unlike Mr. Baldwin. He left as night fell.

She showed me to my room, which I would share with another girl, Anne. Anne was quiet and very hard to get to know; she mostly ignored me. When I wasn't in class, I was often upstairs reading, sometimes under my blanket, but only when the sun was bright through the windows.

I received regular letters from Mr. Baldwin and his wife, which I did not expect. She seemed like a lovely woman to know. I hoped I would get a chance to meet her.

The Baldwins went to Boston for the holidays. Mrs. Baldwin's father was there, and he was ill. I was glad she had a chance to visit with him. I was homesick, too. I wondered how my mother was and if the nursing home was treating her kindly.

I frequently visited the bookstore, found a few others, and scanned newspapers for any bizarre stories that could be like mine. But to no avail. I had no other way to figure out how to get home.

Late in the spring, I received a letter from Mrs. Baldwin inviting me to stay at their home for the summer months.